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2012-11-27 Dom gets Doomed
The battle of Doomstadt went... well, fairly awful for the attackers. Captured and imprisoned, they begin to awake in their cells one by one, but only when Doom allows. Second, is Domino. Her cell is fairly standard. When she wakes, she'll find shackles around her ankles, her clothing and possessions stripped of her with a pile of simple linens nearby that contain both a formal, if plain looking dress, and an outfit of a loose-fitting pair of pants and a similarly sized shirt. Around her neck is a thin, padded collar which was the source of the sedation that is only now beginning to wear off. Over in a corner hidden by a screen that barely reaches waist height, is a bathroom area, providing some vague form of modesty while providing no sense of privacy. The walls are made of stone, and a thick, heavy set door seals it off from the rest of the castle. To say this is an unfamiliar situation for Domino to find herself waking up to would be a serious lie. She's one of those few individuals that can accurately claim to be among the most wanted women on the planet, having made dozens of names for herself along with many very lengthy printouts' worth of actions, most of them incredibly illegal, in her wake. Finding out who she is, that's the hard part. Finding out what she's done? Look in any dark corner, she's probably left her mark somewhere within its shadows. The usual checks are made. The shackles, the collar, the room as a whole. Any cracks or irregularities, anything that might hold some significance or be useful to her in a pinch. Sometimes even the most mundane of things can be useful, if the conditions are right. Though, above all, she takes little time in covering up that ghostly white, battle-scarred skin. Save the dress for someone who's concerned about their sense of femininity, pants and shirt always prevail. "Well, here we go," she mutters while working out knotted clusters of muscle with a grimace. The cell, even to a professional's eye, holds very little of value. Unless she plans on diving down the sewer drain. The door looks solid, the walls look even more so, and no windows exist to climb through. The shackles themselves, though, seem weak enough that perhaps, with time, something could be done with them. However, it seems no time will be given yet, for thudding footsteps signal the arrival of someone -- from the sounds of it, multiple someones. The door slams open and in the dim lighting, the very familiar outline of Doom can be seen. He steps inside, closing the door behind him and slowly makes his way over to Domino. He watches her for a brief moment, before he starts to speak, "Christina Elizabeth Alioso -- Terrorism. Assassination. Attempted assassination. Treason. Luisa Mendoza -- Terrorism. Possession of illegal firearms. Five counts of first degree murder. Arson. Tamara Winter -- Eco terrorism. Grand theft auto. Vehicular homicide." He pauses a moment, before continuing, "Domino -- Mercenary for the right price. Reputation for abandoning contracts. However, I'm to understand there are rumors that you are so good, that the risk is often worth it..." He glances to her shackles, before uttering slowly, and with contempt, "False rumors, clearly." It's about what Domino figures it would be. Besides, without even a scrap of her gear, what could she hope to accomplish? Rarely can these sorts of things be planned out in advance. Unlike her gracious host, who seems to have planned things out ..rather well. The sound of those approaching footsteps leaves no doubt in her mind what's about to happen. By the time Doom shows up at the door she's on her feet, arms folded in front as she lists an exaggerated amount to one side where she stays propped up by a shoulder pressed to the wall. What follows is, for lack of better word, enlightening. "I'm flattered. Only been here a few hours and already you've gone through -all that trouble- just to have something to say when you came to my door. You're still missing some of my best moments, but close enough. You've done your homework. Congratulations on having a strong info network, now can we please move this along?" Doom lets Domino talk, and when she's finished, he snaps his fingers, and electricity courses out from the collar and through her. He lets this go on for several /minutes/ before he ceases the flow. "You will speak when I feel it is necessary," comes the imperial voice of Doom. He issues a technopathic command, and through the door floats a hovering throne, equipped more like a personal command center then anything else, but its user's comfort has clearly been taken into consideration, because it sure beats the hell out of a stone floor. "Information, as we both know, is key. Right now, you are trying to collect as much as you can, to formulate some plan of escape." He doesn't ask, so much as make a statement. "I do have some useful information for you, however." He presses a button on the throne, and an image flickers up in between them of Kwabena, seconds after being fried by Doom's attack. Quickly it shifts to a short clip of Carol going down under an onslaught of doombots, shortly after Doom gives the command to end her. Next, the clip of Doom firing a concussion beam into Psylocke's chest. "Your accomplices are dead. Your mission failed. The transmission you decided to send from /my/ technology was effortlessly redirected back into Doomstadt. No one knows what happened here besides us, and the people of Latveria." He doesn't even need to say how stupid it would be to hope for one of them to betray him. Torture. It's one of those little wargames some people play. They always have common elements and popular themes. Usually they don't involve an initial onslaught of raw energy springing forth around the neck for -several minutes straight.- In an instant Domino's got her own hands welded onto that collar, her legs swiftly giving out beneath her as the sudden, pressing need to -yell- gets seized up within the involuntary tensing of muscles against her throat. Any sound that she does manage to make is strained and abrupt. For what good it doesn't do, she puts up a hell of a struggle against the device. Once given the chance to come back around, Dom spits out a light misting of crimson-stained fluid onto the floor, returning her attention to you as a honed glare rather than the snarky, withdrawn expression from minutes ago. Back to her feet she goes, too strong, too full of -pride- to be handling this on the floor. Seeing the video feeds of her companions being taken down one by one should probably spark some visual shift of emotion. It almost always does with humans. If any such reaction comes out of Dom, it's very, very well guarded. Further restrained within her thoughts than the rest of her is within your hold. All of them, dead..? "-Her- mission," she promptly counters. But, that still doesn't address the heart of the matter. "Bitch didn't even pay me yet. If they're out of the picture then I'm without a job. You hiring?" It might be a play, but there's an utterly serious look within those pale blue eyes. Here stands one very determined woman. Domino receives only more electricity for her effort, going on, once again, for several minutes. Doom eventually lets up, stating very calmly, "You will speak when Doom wills it." The images flicker away, and he watches her through his mask, fingers steepling in front of him. "I am always on the lookout for talent and vision. It is a shame that you offer neither to me willingly." He sighs, thinking again in silence, before he says, "However, I think we are getting a bit off track. Yuo are alive for one reason. You attacked my home and my people, and you will be made an example of. I have analysed your group, and determined which of you would join me." Another image pops up, this one of Blink, and she stand, unlike the other images, unharmed and fully equipped. She stands silently while Doom's voice gives a few orders, clearly a recording, finishing with, 'Do I make myself clear?' To which she promptly replies, 'Yes, My Lord,' and follows him off screen. "Carol Danvers survived and was taken into custody. She lasted five weeks until she broke. Very resiliant. Her body now serves as a warning. It is now your turn. You have been kept sedated and alive for just about two months now. At the end of this time, however long it takes, you will be put to death in the square of the city you tried to destroy." She probably should have seen this coming. Yadda yadda 'when Doom wills it' freaking yadda. Dom's got a few more minutes of blinding, searing agony to think things over, such as how badly this situation sucks for her and all of the horrible, horrible things that she'd love to do back to you for your efforts. Muscles strain against the current, against the band closed about her neck, and finally, as if it's her crowning achievement of the day, she manages to yell out in a way that sounds more like a feral growl than a cry of agony. Minutes... -Minutes.- Tasers happen over a matter of seconds. Zap-zap-zap. It's nothing like what you've got at your disposal. If that's the way you want to play this game, that's fine with her. There's a slight twitch in her limbs now as she claws her way upright once more, the back of a hand wiping her bloodied mouth clean as best as it can. The hardened glare returns, now joining quicker, heavier breaths. You've earned her silence, at the very least. For now. Long enough to see Blink succeeding in 'joining' your side where she happened to fail. Hearing about Danvers, and --wait. Five -weeks?!- What! Two months?! Suddenly things are starting to look very, very dire. Domino's already figuring the odds, and she's not liking what she's seeing. Her response? The slow, rhythmic popping of her knuckles. Body language will do all of the speaking she needs for her. At least Blink managed to pull through this mess. Doom waits until she pops all of her knuckles, then nods slowly. "Good, good. The more resiliant the subject, the more satisfying their break. Now, then, I will see you when you awake, and we will be able to /really/ get started. The body is the easiest to break, and when I have, we will begin on the mind." With that, he snaps his fingers again, and the energy returns, coursing through her, delivering agony to every inch of her body, and it will not stop until she succumbs to unconsciousness. Earned her silence, but not for long. "Lucky you," she states in a gravelly tone. "I don't break. I explode." Domino even demonstrated that one with the AA guns getting taken out, and yet here she is! Saved from being burnt to a crisp or riddled with shrapnel, just so she can get electrocuted halfway into oblivion. She's so damned fortunate. She's also recognizing the motions. Your hand, the twitch of fingers. The instant she sees motion out of your limb she makes a dive for you, hands outstretched toward your helmet, hoping at the very least to hook her thumbs through the holes cut open for you to see the world through. If she could just do -some- amount of damage back to you... Dom may never know if she did or not. Momentary flashes burn themselves into her memory of thrashing about on the floor, clawing uselessly at stone construction, yelling out until her throat's gone raw. Then, mercifully... Nothing at all. Doom was actually, surprised to see Dom dive at him, but he wouldn't have gone in there alone if he wasn't more then capable of dealing with his prisoner. She reaches his helmet, is even about to put her thumbs through those eye slits, when Doom's fist catches her in the gut and sends her backwards to writhe on the floor away from him. She's sedated and checked over for lasting damage, keeping her under for about three hours while the castle staff heals and feeds her. She's brought to a new cell that shares the same layout, but is obviously a different location. Once again shackled, she'll awake, once again stripped, once again a pile of linens lays nearby, but this time Doom sits in his throne, waiting patiently for her to awake, and when she does, and he's certain she's aware enough to understand him, he says, "Three days. Perhaps you aren't quite as resiliant as I had hoped. I believe Carol was only unconscious for just over a day." As far as plays go, it's all that Domino had. Shame that it didn't pan out, but even catching you off guard was a start. Unfortunately, it's repaid in kind soon enough. Waking up in a notable lack of decency is one thing, but with you sitting -right there,- waiting for her to come around, that's just creepy! Having any dignity at this point isn't easily done, but she gives you as little credit as possible. She won't even turn her back long enough to get dressed, something which she's able to do without appearing all beat down and ragged. Silver linings, and all. "Good for her," comes the snide remark, making a point of not caring. It helps that she barely knew Carol, and let's face it, that gal was a tough customer. Super strength, everlasting endurance, -flight,- Dom didn't get any of that fun stuff. She's practically just human! Well trained, well honed, but still not that far off. Human, with a twist. If it took her three days to come back around, so be it. She's not about to apologize for getting your hopes up. If she can't interest you in hiring her, one way or another, maybe she can make you -lose- interest in her so this mess can just be finished and over with. One way, or another. Doom chuckles faintly, just as he snaps his fingers. The routine should be fairly obvious at this point, but when the pain subsides, he simply states, "You will speak only when Doom wills it." His mind turns, unfathomable as he watches Domino, and then he states. "The body is the first to break. Then the mind, but your's is such a strong one. Such a waste." He settles back, appearing to be thinking even still, before he states. "I will offer you a respite. An end to the torture before it even begins. If you refuse, it will be offered to you twice more; once when your body lies crumpled at my feet, then again when your mind is laid bare. You can join your accomplice at my side. You may not yet have the vision required, but that can be taught, so long as you have motivation enough to learn." Yeeeah..no one ever said this is going to be easy. It's kind of the nature of the beast. -You- might make it look easy. Where Domino's writhing around on the floor? Anything but. It's hard not to think that luck has completely abandoned her, withered up and died away like the rest of the team rather than lying in wait for the right moment to lay down the cards. As is so often the case, she has no one, nothing, to rely upon except for herself. Years of getting shot, stabbed, beat up, blown up, thrown, buried, crushed, pummeled, and flayed apart. Much like the room which you've thrown her into, there's a cold, hard place within the furthest reaches of her mind where at least a piece of her can lock itself away and ride out the coming storm. There's going to be a lot more to bend before anything breaks. There it is. A way out. Risk versus reward, in its own twisted sense. What had happened to Blink back there, what made her so subservient? Here within the realm of a power-mad lord where magic and technology co-conspire with speak of 'visions,' had the other mutant's brain been reprogrammed to make her a good little follower? Sure, agree to join now, end this torment, and face gods know what else in reformation! As Betsy had been quick to discover, Domino -does not like people inside of her head.- Her thoughts, her memories, are her own, and that is one area that does not get screwed with! You didn't take her offer before, why would she give it to you now? Do you want to keep pushing her until she breaks? Entertain yourself at her expense? Then shut up and bring the pain. As Domino for once remains silent, Doom dips his head slightly. "Carol refused as well. I didn't even have to ask Blink. There is a mutal interest we share. The fate of another world. Until such time as that resolution comes about, she is a willing enough tool. She lives in the lap of luxury, now. A small reward for her obedience. Very well, I think we should begin." He presses a button on his throne, and in marches five robotic guards, two wheeling a cart of horrific looking instruments, one a bucket, and the last two escort a tall, straight backed man in a lab coat, latex gloves pulled taught over his hands. He bows to Doom, murmuring, "My Lord," and Doom simply nods in response. "Begin when ready. If she dies, you will too." And then the throne turns and begins to leave the room. Taking Domino's silence as her answer, are you? Not without a sneer and a parting shot. "I'm sorry, was it my turn to speak? -Go Fuck Yourself.-" While it always feels good to get that out into the open, there's also times where she comes to regret having said something to that effect. The machines, gear, and some guy who probably lost his medical license many years ago now entering the room with her leave the merc with plenty to think about, such as how much worse things are about to get. On the upside, you're leaving. Much as she had before, acting before thinking, Dom goes for the weakest looking target available. The man in the lab coat. There's no sound of warning, no cry of rage. The albino woman simply lunges for him, allowing those years of training to take over for her. Dead men torture no prisoners, and -this- guy looks like an easy freaking target. Maybe, juuust maybe, something will go her way. The torturer watches as Dom lunges for him, and luck takes a hand, allowing her to get her hands around his throat just as the robotic guards lock their arms around her's, isntantly sending far more electricity through her then her shock collar. The lucky part comes in, when the torturer, through contact with Dom, gets the same treatment. The thud of his unconscious body halts Doom's progress from the room, and he turns, looking down to the man through his mask. "Such a shame you are determined to go through hell before joining my side. You do show promise. Imagine what you could accomplish with my resources... When you awake, we will begin the psychological phase, I think. Harder, yes, but not impossible. And safer for my assistants. Congratulations, you have won the privelage to be in my presence for much, much longer." And then he snaps his fingers, waiting for her to black out again. Oh, if only she had the chance to kill that guy when you -aren't- still around..! Still, Domino's counting it as a victory. Never give up without a fight. And, if you're going to die? Take one of them down with you. Stripped of her gear, her armor, even some of her spirit, you're still dealing with a woman who's a professional in her fields. She can still claim the life of another with nothing more than a touch and, perhaps, a little help from timing. It feels good at the same time that it feels horrible. She's still counting it as a win. All the way..right back..to unconsciousness. Some things get old quickly. Domino will awake five hours later, stripped, new cell, more shackles, Doom. "A week that time," he informs her, this time shrouded in darkness. In fact, so is the entire cell, until he presses a button and floodlights switch on to reveal an execution chamber, and if Doom was creepy, the hordes of soldiers arrayed around the room leering at her is probably worse. This time, there is no neat stack of linens. "Since, admittedly, I was not yet prepared to personalize a torture for you, I have decided to go with several stand-bys. Public humiliation, in this case. My few living soldiers needed some entertainment after you killed so many of their compatriots in the skies above Doomstadt, and since you are still so eager to kill, I though I'd allow you to do so. The throne is already rising through the air and heading for a platform. As he speaks, a door opens up on the other side of the chamber, and out stalks a trio of wolves, slowly circling Dom as her shackles are suddenly released. "I wish you the best of luck." Domino can't recall how many times she's been knocked out then brought back around, anymore. Or how long it's been. A few weeks here, a few months there, she's starting to feel like the sort of toy you only brush the dust off of when nothing else seems interesting any longer. Now, rather than you and a cell, there's a lot more to contend with. Still, there's a glimmer of hope in the back of her mind that you're going to give her a crack at taking down all of these soldiers. The looks on their faces, how she'd -love- to rip them off of their skulls... Yes, she's still plenty eager. People don't pay her to sit and talk, sip tea and play board games. She gets paid to -- Fight wolves? "Okay, this is new," she admits in a low mutter. Nothing but skill against three wild animals. In front of everyone--No. Focus, Domino. Pack mentality. They're better armed than she is. Time it right, dive backward across the floor, and let two of them collide with each other. Nothing but fur and fangs. Find the pack leader, there's always one to call the shots. The cunning mind, the strategist. Wolves never expect something to land on -their- backs, to dig the points of so many fingers into their necks, baring down on the arteries and windpipe. It's worth the gashes her shoulders and arms take as she wrestles it to the ground. It would work if not for two others being involved. Pointed teeth hook into her calf, hold fast. The other leaps for the albino's back and finds itself getting thrown across the combat zone. Funny how pain other than being shocked is suddenly that much more welcome. With a determined grunt Dom twists around and locks her legs around the third wolf's neck, baring down to deprive the animal of the air it needs to stay in the fight even as its teeth tear into her pasty white skin. Those soldiers get themselves plenty of visuals to take home with them this night. The lone mercenary merely gets to hang onto the fact that she manages to survive. Doom watches on, but by this point, the bare female body no long holds any relevance to him, at least not like this. It's the skill she shows that interests Doom. The soldiers are a different matter. Once Doom is finished speaking, the leering only increases, accompanied by cat calls and pictures taken from hundreds of phones, everything seems to elicit howls of approval from the skillfull tackle of the alpha wolf, to the strangulation of another with her legs. Even simply running is enough to get several whoops. When the last wolf falls, Doom's throne lifts and the hall grows silent again. It touches down, on the ground, and he stands, walking slowly over to Dom to stand in front of her. "Excellent. Since you did so well against the wolves, I will be your next opponent." It's a big leap from wolf to Doom, but it quickly becomes obvious that the wolves were only to weaken her, make her fight against him seem even more impossible. The throne lifts, and Doom turns to face his victim, gesturing for her to stand. "Come now. I will allow you the first move." For a woman that values her privacy, enjoys being a force that works within the shadows, this..is not easy. She may have her head in the game while focusing on putting the animals down (even without necessarily killing them!) Once they're down she has nothing left to hide behind, out of distractions. Not even the blood dripping down her body is enough for her to ignore all of these people -taking pictures of her.- Nowhere to hide. No -thing- to hide behind. Openly acknowledging them won't make it easier, though it is an option that runs through her mind. Focus. Stand, focus. Aw, -hell-... How does one injured and buck naked woman that barely tips the scale at one twenty take on just shy of eight feet of full metal armor..? She probably would have had better luck carving an escape tunnel using nothing more than toenail clippings against the solid stone floor. Domino's first rule of survival: When you think you're losing, kick over the game board and start again with new rules. "And this is how you intend to keep your image around here, by taking on injured and unarmed women while hiding behind your armor," she says with a sneer and a challenging tone in her voice. It's not a complete loss, though. There's always a chance. Right? Like one of those iron-clad feet slipping, tripping over a fallen wolf? Yeah, those odds aren't stacking up too well. Doom stares at Domino for a few moments, before he shrugs, One by one, he starts to remove the various segments of his armor, electrical pulses given at just the right moment to release the various and numerous locks keeping the metal in place, until he too stands nearly naked save for his cloak, sparse clothing underneath, and his mask. His hands come up, and with a few deft moves, he removes the mask, his face obscured in the darkness of his cloak. Carefully, he wraps his hood around his face, obscuring it entirely save for his eyes and a bit more skin then was normally apparent, all of it scarred. He now stands at nearly six and a half feet tall, his body rock solid, covered in muscle, and his voice, no longer obscured by the mask is smooth and crisp, "Image means nothing, but I do want you to see just how hopeless fighting me is. Now... Make the first attack." This is it, never could Domino hope for better, or more implausible, odds. You're out of your armor. She's out of her restraints. There's an open space between the two that's surrounded by men with cameras. There's three unconscious and hungry wolves nearby, ones that have already learned not to mess with the short one. There's a wall of muscle now staring her down, but with it lies what could quickly become the proverbial perfect storm of opportunity. You're leaving the first move to -her,- giving her the greatest odds of triggering her power. In an instant she's got a goal in mind. She needs to expose your face. Maybe not all of Psylocke's mission objectives will be lost, all it takes is one picture of opportunity, a few seconds for it to get posted to the net somewhere, and the world would see the true face of Doom. One near-impossible challenge, coming up. Facing these odds leaves her with the clear impression that she won't be walking away from this skirmish without some broken bones, but if that's the cost to achieve her goal then so be it. She knows pressure points, vulnerable locations within the body, ways to get past all of that muscle mass. And one very important detail. Dom's second rule of survival: When in doubt, cheat. She'll make the first attack, aiming a swift, bloodied leg straight up between both of yours. Time for a field goal. As Domino's leg comes up, Doom twists his own, shifting into a sideways half-kneel to block her attack with his knee. He's completely silent as he moves, bringing his fist down in a sudden jab towards Domino's outstretched leg. His shot is perfectly aimed at a specific muscle group, one that, if hit, will leave her leg numb and unresponsive for a few seconds. It seems Domino is not the only one with knowledge of pressure points and the body's weakspots. As the brawl begins, the soldiers, shocked by their Monarch's decision, are completely silent, though their cameras are recording nearly every moment of, what for them, is a historic duel. To see Doom outside his armor is a rare honor indeed, but they know all too well that their master doesn't just rely on technology as so many of his foes believe, nor even magic, but is in fact, an experienced fighter in his own right. Someone else is quickly learning about this fact today. Big, powerful, and -fast.- With skill. Grand! Dom's far from being on her game after her stay here, the retaliatory strike sending a shockwave of pain through her limb as she yelps and stumbles for balance. Of course this isn't going to be easy! That's half of the point. The worse the odds, the greater the danger that she willingly places herself within, the greater her odds are of things falling into place. Work with the system. You're large and quick. She's small and (typically) nimble. Keep low. Trying to offset your own balance might be like trying to kick a mountain in the shin but it's what she has. The back of her heel makes for a good impact point, if she can find a good cluster of nerves to drive it into she might get you down more to her level. The ultimate goal is to remove that cape from your head, by any means possible. She just can't allow you to see it coming until it's too late. Some more personal sacrifice on her part is in order. Fast, but not instantaneous. The heel hits his thigh, bringing him down to one knee as his muscles sieze up on him. Again, he doesn't even so much as grunt from the blow, his eyes locked on Domino's, preparing himself to block the next attack he's sure is coming. His soldier's are surprised, to say the least, when he goes down on a knee. However, this is the woman who was able to take out three wolves completely naked and without any weapons. It seems too early to have her window of opportunity, but when opportunity knocks... The next move isn't much of an attack. Domino yells out and lunges for you, not to knock you down but to get herself onto your shoulders. Keep you distracted, go for the prize, c'mon shock and awe..! Throw her to the ground, shatter her ribs, bust out her legs, she is -going to have this victory.- Even if it does seem like a stupid thing to risk her life over. "Let's be exposed together, you freak!" As Dom lunges, Doom simply brings up a fist, driving it directly for her gut, trying to launch her back away from him. Her cry is noted, and Doom takes a brief second to check the wrappings on his face, still silent as he fights off the attack. Her intentions have suddenly become very obvious to one of the smartest men in the world, but he's clearly under the assumption that he needs not fear her. -Hrk!- Dom's lucky just in not having her ribs crushed upon making contact with your fist, plowing into her like a freight train. She's light, which means it doesn't take a lot to send her flying across the makeshift arena. The landing isn't any more graceful, the merc's ragged body propping up on forearms as she coughs up fresh blood before drawing her attention back to you. "Decided not to forgo the physical torture after all, huh." Her voice is somewhat pitiful, but there's still that determined growl lurking within its depths. She's taking a beating but she's also learning your fighting techniques. You like to be the powerhouse, striking like a sledgehammer but only just -once.- Overpowering you is out of the question. she simply needs to learn how to be faster. With the one leg still only tingling its way back to life she hauls herself upright and starts closing the gap, less hasty now and much more focused. Anger alone isn't going to win this. "You about ready to get started?" One tiny white heel goes to introduce itself to the top of your foot, aiming lower still. Killing your mobility might be a starting point. Maybe she would have been better off as dinner for the wolves. Doom rolls his shoulders once, ticking his head to the side as Domino gets back up. Finally he breaks his silence, to respond. "You're determined, I'll give you that, but you face Doom. It is hopeless." When she starts closing in, slowly, Doom rises back up, straightening out his leg. His hands come up, readying himself for the next stage of the fight. All around the Soldiers cry out in unison, "Doom!" chanting their Monarch on to victory. His eyes narrow on Domino, and when she launches her quick attack, he tries to dart his foot out of the way, but he's a second to slow. The heel slams on his instep and he finally grunts, dropping again to one knee, instantly, he sweeps his arm out, trying to cut Domino's legs out from underneath her, silent once again. You seem to enjoy keeping her away from you. Outside of reach. Your limbs do go further than her own, it's an effective strategy. It's also one that Domino has to break, lest -she- break instead. When your arm sweeps out for her legs she pivots and throws the back of her shoulder toward your sternum, trying to close the gap and invade your personal space. The downside is that it puts her in an excellent position for a bearhug. The upside is that it gives her a chance to try and drive an elbow back into your face. Failing that, she can always use the back of her skull for the same purpose and drive herself up toward the underside of your jaw. Stay in close, keep the pressure on, don't let up..! As soon as she gives you a window you're going to come back around, something which she can't take much more of! Doom grunts as Domino's shoulder slams into his sternum, but he turns slightly, rolling away from the hit enough to lessen the blow. His hand snaps out, just as she thought might, one arm slipping around her throat as he grabs his own wrist and tightens, attempting to place her in a headlock. At the same time he rises back up to his full six and a half feet of height. The soldiers roar their approval at either his tactic, or the way they get an unhampered view of Domino for the first time since the fight began. "Do you hear that? You are at a distinct disadvantage," Doom hisses out at Domino, "Imagine if you were to in fact, manage to kill me. What then? Do you think you could escape? Your life no longer has meaning. It is forfeit, so surrender to me, and allow me to rebuild you as a true force to be reckoned with." That window is rapidly closing again. Hands much smaller than your own latch onto your forearm, Dom's mouth reflexively opening wider as she struggles to draw air into her lungs. As far as plans go, it's risky and it's stupid. It also keeps your arms occupied and your attention focused. "Not about winning," she breathlessly growls, "it's about making a point..!" Once more, where you'll have a very hard time seeing it coming, she goes for the gold. Two feet, driving backward together as one heavy blow. Straight to the jewels. Dom's not done. Hit or miss, the lunge for such a low blow should break your concentration at the very least. She's not going to get that arm off of her neck, which means her hands may as well make themselves useful. You've got her off of her feet, higher in the air. Closer to your head, and the cape wrapped around it. She goes high -and- low. Something's gotta give. Maybe more than something. Domino's attack does, indeed, go unnoticed. It's too hard to keep track of both hands and feet at the same, and when her feet hit him below the belt, he grunts. Heavily, head lock loosening for just a second. The distraction is enough though, that Domino can get a hold on the cape wrapped around his face, and when he feels her fingers on his face, he instantly throws her as far as he can. It's too late, though, she had the cape, and when she was tossed it came free. Doom's face is exposed, a mess of scar tissue and burns. His lips are pulled back in a silent, angry snarl, and rage fills his eyes, before he ducks his head, placing one hand over his brutalized face. The other comes up, hand open as he roars out in fury. Instantly, magic takes affect, dragging Domino back to Doom, her throat angled for his open, waiting hand. "You. Will. DIE!" There it is..! She can feel the fabric between her fingers! Domino couldn't have planned this any better, suddenly getting thrown away from you -with the cape in her hands.- Hacking, coughing, she uses that one moment of distance that she has from her opponent and holds that stolen cape up high overhead with a downright horrific, blood-stained grin etched upon her face. "See your ruler in all of his glory, peons! Too afraid to expose himself as he has me!" She's just about to use that cape as cover to make herself slightly more decent when something -yanks- her off of her feet, sailing right back to the man which she just enraged the crap out of. It's a done deal, now. She's earned her one little victory. Perhaps it cost her the rest of her life, but at least she could now face oblivion with a grin instead of a grimace. Doom's adoring public awaits. Domino's short speech only further enrages the Monarch, and as he feels the merc's throat reach his hand, his fingers instantly squeeze. The force is enough to crush most windpipes, but before Domino can have such an easy way out, Doom's fingers light up with electricity. Magically charged electricity. It takes only a second for the energy to hop from his fingers and into Domino's body, coursing through her every nerve. There is no break. No black out to save her. Only death at Doom's hands. Countless times Domino has had close brushes with death. None of them have been pleasant, though all of them have been memorable. Sometimes there's fear. Almost always there's agony. One might say that she had nine lives of her very own, she's come so close to that edge on so many occasions across the globe. Shot, stabbed, gassed, crushed, nearly drowned, drugged, strangled, poisoned, a particularly close call to monofilament wire... Today she can add electrocution to that list at the cost of her last life, it's a doozy. Red-stained fingernails sink into that iron-like arm reaching from the front of her neck, locked into place even as she strains to rip and tear into the layers of tissue to the bone hidden inside. Her legs are too unresponsive to lash out with, the heavy, unrelenting jolt bending the knees and curling the toes until she looks less like a person and more like a perverse statue of pure anguish. No more sound comes out, her throat closed off and her vocal chords unresponsive. All the albino woman can manage is the occasional spastic twitch like a fish dangling from a hook, muscle and vein alike standing out in stark relief beneath that scarred alabaster covering. Darkness eventually overcomes Domino one last time. Category:Logs Category:RPLogs